Interview: The Brilliant Martyna Halas & Marita Hellem Discuss Holissstik’s ‘This Endless Solitude’

“I think the best female vocals in the galaxy are all in this album.” ~Gabriel Trentini

Holissstik’s Chapter 1: This Endless Solitude represents one of the greatest triumphs in dark music, in my view. As the brainchild of the Manes legend Tor-Helge Skei of Trondheim, Holissstik deliver pure brilliance of a type that rises above stylistic labels yet may be compared to classical music due to its flow and elevated charm. One of the most important aspects of This Endless Solitude is that it will hopefully introduce more listeners to the astounding vocalists Martyna Halas and Marita Hellem, as it presents an opportunity to experience their artistry at its finest. Like Cellar Darling’s Anna Murphy, a household name in the metal community who also appears on This Endless Solitude, the enormously versatile Martyna and Marita are arguably two of the greatest female talents around.

I have already made clear that I believe Marita to be a rising star, since we have heard her collaborate with Tor-Helge before in the contexts of Lethe, his duo with Anna, and Manes—Marita wowed as the lead vocalist on Manes’ EP Pathei Mathos (2024), and she is one of the voices on the band’s upcoming masterpiece To Burn Is to Shine. She is also the driving force behind the solo project Martyra, fronts Invaded, and plays bass in Starvation. I actually first became aware of her work, however, through her involvement in Enevelde—the solo project of Mr. Brage Kråbøl, one of the only black metal musicians I deem worthy of support. Like Tor-Helge, Marita now resides in Trondheim.

Martyna, on the other hand, is known for the likes of Rage of Light, who will hopefully treat us to more material one day, and Ascend the Hollow, a past endeavor. She can moreover be heard on Telergy’s Black Swallow (2020), which boasts bigwigs such as ex-King Diamond’s Andy La Rocque. Martyna has established herself as a journalist, author, and activist. Her intellect and writerly supremacy, of course, shine through in her music. This multi-lingual Renaissance woman hails from Poland and has lived in Ireland and Germany. She is currently based in The Netherlands. This Endless Solitude became the first time that audiences were able to enjoy the fruits of her creative partnership with Tor-Helge.

I couldn’t wait for the opportunity to sit down with these women, whose performances are so honest that even calling them maximally convincing seems odd. However, part of the philosophy behind Holissstik is that you can’t separate the parts from the whole, in a similar way that dissecting a heart will tell you very little about the essence of life—The whole becomes a new entity animated by a transcendent force. Thus, why not call in my favorite composer? Everything concerning Holissstik has become so exceptionally confusing that I wanted to have the three together in order to find out where their memories converged and be as factual as possible. Yes, This Endless Solitude showcases the invaluable individualistic touches of about 20 collaborators in total, but there was no way I, as a journalist, could pull off such a massive conversation, even though I really would have liked that. Therefore, we send them all our appreciation now.

In the autumn of 2024, I received the mostly instrumental “sketches” that would become Holissstik’s ongoing trilogy—Some of them were years old and seemed like precious relics, whereas others were quite new. They were all already perfect in their own right. I believe they only contained a small bit of samples and vocals by Anna and Tom Engelsøy. (Tor-Helge probably left those to be heard because, in their abbreviated cliff-hanger nature, they heighten the music’s atmospheric quality and are more like embellishments than main performances, despite their immense power and allure.)

Although, from then on, I thought I was listening to the guest contributions come into the picture in real time, Tor-Helge had some content from Martyna and Marita, for example, that he had temporarily muted so that newer participants wouldn’t be influenced by the pre-existing additions—a fact that reveals much about how This Endless Solitude came together.

I ask Marita if she remembers anything about when Holissstik “started.” She acknowledges, “It’s hard to keep track of everything, because it started with Manes, and I’ve done so many vocals after that.” Going into detective mode, Tor-Helge discovers that he sent his earliest message to Marita on January 21, 2022. He first asked if she would be interested in doing vocals for Manes and then, a month later, invited her to guest with Lethe. (Unlike for Chapter 2, Marita’s Chapter 1 songs were originally intended for Manes, and then the first or both were considered for Lethe.)

Next, I check if the women recall hearing at least some of the other voices. Marita doesn’t. Martyna responds that things were left bare “for every song, basically, and that’s an amazing, cool thing that I love about this project. Actually, I don’t think any of us knew what any of the other singers were doing, and yet somehow it seems as though we all felt the same emotion, and we had the same kind of inspiration. Even the lyrics were kind of covering the same themes. So, it’s really amazing how music can just communicate the same universal feeling to so many contributors who have never even met each other. This is the first time we’ve even seen each other online. We’ve never met—never really talked beyond some emails, messages, and never agreed on anything. It was just a free flow. We all got the songs, and it was like, ‘Do whatever you feel.’

And then, I heard the final album with all the puzzle pieces put together, and it had this wow effect, like, ‘This is cool, because I would maybe never approach it this way, but it just makes complete sense.’”

When Tor-Helge first told me that the women really hadn’t “collaborated,” it felt like a mindf*ck of Slagmaurian proportions. He too has been in awe of the apparent telepathy between contributors, “That really-really surprised me too—the kind of things came together without planning. Everything fits together like a hand in a glove. That’s much-much more surprising than what I could have hoped for, actually. I think it was so cool that everything actually worked so well together, without detailed planning and telling people what to do and stuff. I’ve always said that there’s obviously something about the entire thing that people can connect to and that guides everything in the same direction. So, that’s really-really cool, I think.”

Martyna takes us through how she first connected with the entity that is Holissstik, “From what I remember, I was first in touch with Eivind, and we just exchanged a few files of music, just for fun. And then, Eivind actually said, ‘Oh, by the way, Tor-Helge is looking for some singers, so maybe you would like me to put you in touch?’ And I said, ‘Yeah, sure.’ It was for Lethe, and it was during COVID time, so that seems like so long ago now. We did this one composition that didn’t quite match Lethe, but then I was so happy that later on Tor-Helge decided, ‘How about this new project?’ First, it was The Holos Collective, and now it’s Holissstik. I’m just so happy with how this evolved.”

(For context, Eivind Fjøseide, from Manes’ “core four,” played guitar on all but one of This Endless Solitude’s eight constituents, and Martyna reached out to him because she’s a fan of his band Atrox, of which Tor-Helge was a member in the beginning.) Tor-Helge’s records show that he and Martyna first established contact in October 2020.

The song mentioned by Martyna became “The Rhythm of Silence.” It now serves as the ideal opener to This Endless Solitude and also features Marita and French rapper Pierre Ripka (who, like Marita, has already been heard in Lethe). This uncanny gem, both timeless and tinged with a bit of iconic ’80s sound, proves quite capable of swallowing listeners for entire days. “The Rhythm of Silence” is where flashing city lights meet northern lights; a bit of ancient air from the East seems to sweep in at times as well. Martyna enlightens us as to when she began working on this first single, “I think it was around 2021.

The song was in a completely different structure back then, so it was fun to see how it evolved. It was a ‘sketch’ at first. It was surprising for me and a nice experience to see how my contribution ended up in something that felt completely new with so many cool contributors from all over the world. I think it’s amazing.” Martyna’s memory is supported by Tor-Helge’s earlier findings—The oldest incarnation of the track with her vocals that he was able to dig up dates to August 2021, whereas content was received from Pierre by December 2020 and Marita by April 2022. Tor-Helge has pinpointed “The Rhythm of Silence” as the first of Holissstik’s songs to have essentially been completed, even if he would continue to tweak it. 

Tor-Helge weighs in, “Everything evolved step by step, slowly, as opposed to forming at a specific time. (…) It’s been a very fluid process. Some of Holissstik’s recordings were taken from other projects, and then they were molded into something new. I remember I decided that 2025 should start with a bang and posted ‘The Rhythm of Silence’ on YouTube on the 1st of January. [At the beginning of that year, “My Salvation” with Martyna’s vocals, the title track (then dubbed “Red”) with at least some of Martyna and Marita’s vocals, and the then contribution-free “Would You Take This Heart” (“Omega,” at the time) would likewise be posted.] From then on, it became kind of a concrete project, in a way—In my head, that’s when the project became official.

But I had worked with it just a couple of weeks before that—We had done a lot of mixing and testing things. On December 6, 2024, I had made a post on Facebook asking for collaborators. Mid- to late-2024 is when I started getting more serious about collecting material for something concrete, though, even before that, we had a lot of ideas, a lot of plans. We had been working with the music for several years, of course, because of all this build-up and the process’ connection to Lethe and Manes.” I remember the words “new project” had been floating around since the summer 2024, maybe a bit earlier, and the name “The Holos Collective” was definitely adopted that year.

Whereas Martyna sings her own phenomenally gorgeous, evocative lyrics on “The Rhythm of Silence” and elsewhere on This Endless Solitude, I had been uncertain about the origins of Marita’s lines at the beginning of this gem. She clarifies, “I think they were Torstein’s lyrics, and they all were in this text file … But we didn’t find them afterwards. We tried to listen over and over again for the words…” (Marita usually sings Torstein Parelius’ lyrics in Tor-Helge’s projects; Torstein is another defining fixture of Manes.) Marita reappears toward the end of the song with the most ethereal, piercing wordless vocals one could hope to hear.

During past research, I encountered at least one case of a collaborator not recognizing her voice on one of Tor-Helge’s works because of the way the voices were woven together and also because everything morphs within the context of Tor-Helge’s transformative atmospheres. Martyna addresses the topic, “One of the most exciting parts is when you receive the final version and everything comes together, and it is surprising sometimes to realize, ‘Oh, this is me?! That sounds really cool.’ But it’s interesting you mentioned as well that our contributions sometimes blend so seamlessly that it’s hard to tell who is who, because it’s been a long time since we did ‘The Rhythm of Silence,’ and sometimes I can’t even tell who is who. I was like, ‘Was that me? Or is this me? I don’t think it’s me.’ Honestly, I couldn’t remember anymore.”

Because of how Martyna sounds on “The Rhythm of Silence,” I was shocked to hear how clean her voice actually is (though she and Marita have both mastered harsh vocals), as wonderfully demonstrated on Chapter 2. On that second album, I would have confused Martyna for Marita at points if I wasn’t told the singer in question was her (just as I could maybe sometimes mistake Marita for Anna). It is clear, however, that the breathiness of Martyna’s singing on “The Rhythm of Silence” was meant to relate to the lines, “I’ve tried slicing the air in half / Grasping for oxygen, we fell apart.” Martyna states, “I do love incorporating those more breathy vocals. They definitely fit the music. The gasping for air actually, in part, refers to the situation with COVID that was then going on.

“I also referred to the fact that we had to self-isolate for a while. It was a very extreme scenario that we were not just metaphorically but physically separated and longing for some kind of human contact.” Martyna wisely worked in some rhythmic breaths, which are semi-hidden in the mix, thereby amplifying the soundtrack-like quality and, as she says, adding an extra texture. (This reminds me a bit of how Skei placed some indiscernible voices at the very end of the finale; you will probably only discover them after many listens, but their presence always affects you on a subconscious level.)

Martyna’s artistic choices here enhance the spiritual vibe that runs throughout Holissstik. In fact, “The Rhythm of Silence” was originally titled “Abraham.” (As of now, a yet-to-be-released composition has another biblical-sounding name, and, while Tor-Helge says that provisionally dubbing one number “Blavatsky” was a bit of an impulsive decision, it must have been because of how this devilish dame’s spiritual syncretism relates to Holissstik’s focus on unity and their collective spirit.)

Holissstik’s label, the venerable Season of Mist, assigned French director Gornoss the task of visually translating “The Rhythm of Silence.” Gornoss’ breathtaking and nuanced cinematic nightmare demonstrates much respect for the poems of Martyna and Pierre. Martyna emphasizes, “I was just absolutely amazed with the video. I personally have never even spoken with Gornoss, but it’s just perfect. It’s as if he was in my head, and he knew exactly what I meant with the lyrics. The actress, the effects, everything … Everything is just perfect. And I feel the same about the cover art.”

When I first received what became This Endless Solitude’s second offering, “My Salvation,” which consumes listeners with its sense of mystery and even has a bit of a thriller feeling, there was just some sampled content on it. Tor-Helge mined the sound bites from an incredibly tragic documentary about a woman who committed suicide and had left clues for her sister leading up to her decision and to be discovered posthumously. I know that Tor-Helge played around with how he incorporated these samples and muted and unmuted them. Tor-Helge and I have discussed that Martyna’s lyrics connect to them in very interesting ways, so I inquire as to whether Martyna heard the documentary samples on “My Salvation” when it was originally sent her way.

Martyna answers, “I think when I recorded ‘My Salvation,’ the samples weren’t there. I recorded this one during a depressing winter. It was actually quite recent, maybe even as recent as one or two years ago. (2024 seems right because of when it was posted, plus Tor-Helge updated me at the beginning of December that he’d just received a bunch of tracks from Martyna and would be doing some testing.) It was very dark outside, and my emotion matched what was outside the window. It was a very-very quick process for me. I wasn’t really expecting it to be the final version, but I just recorded what I felt on my equipment, which, back then, wasn’t very good, without trying to monitor myself too much. That’s also what this project became for me—an exercise in being led by emotion rather than perfection, just saying and writing words I feel without trying to be too perfect. That was interesting, because I’m very harsh on myself and so much of a perfectionist always, which results in delays, but I just wanted to try something else.” The irony is that, of course, Martyna achieved perfection.

Martyna reappears on the sixth track, “Would You Take This Heart.” Tor-Helge’s sinister ambient instrumental version struck me as maximally excellent but something that would be hard to pin vocals onto, given its floating feeling. Tor-Helge has referred to the music itself as the darkest on the album; it is almost impossibly dark to the point that you really need to be in a strong state of mind in order to receive it. Yet, Martyna’s voice, especially in combination with the Buddhist monks’ chanting that was added later, thanks to guest Stig Waltoft, now brings a redemptive power and contagious sense of resilience. Waltoft, who has an inspiring story to tell, wisely incorporated a heavy crescendo part among other things, likewise helping to move us.

Martyna explains, “‘Would You Take This Heart’ is a super special song to me. I wrote the lyrics and also the vocal melody for someone special at the time. But it also represents the longing that I think everyone can feel—the longing to be loved, as in, ‘OK, this is what I have to offer for you. I don’t have much to offer, but would you like to take it? And if not, then I guess I would be devastated, but I will heal eventually.’ So, that is the message. But the song was originally more ambient, without the monks. That was another surprising, amazing element. Once everything came together, I was absolutely mind-blown. It was like, ‘Wow, this is just so amazing.’”

She continues, “And as for how I approached this song, I had this feeling that I had to follow, and I just decided to turn on the microphone. I think I recorded most of it in one go, honestly, just because my emotion was so strong, and, again, I didn’t watch myself much. I just really went for it. And, also, I included the Polish phrases kind of spontaneously as well. I just followed my instinct, really, and a more folky way of singing. So, what’s amazing to me is that this song just incorporates so many different cultural influences from all over the world that normally would never even meet. Yet, they come together in one place, kind of like world music, almost. So, yeah, I was just really moved and almost cried when I heard the final version.” I will second that—Martyna’s compositions make me cry, even now.

Martyna provides more information on the said folk-infusion, “On ‘Would You Take This Heart,’ I experimented with a Slavic folk singing style called the white voice. There’s not a lot of it, but there is an element of it. Basically, the white voice uses a very open throat and produces very flat sounds that sometimes are maybe even slightly out of tune. This is the folky aspect that I’ve always wanted to try and experiment with, and I don’t know, for me, there’s the pride element … I wanted to try to embrace the country where I’m from. I spent many years kind of trying to …

I’m not saying obscure or hide, but it was never really something that I was particularly proud of. And, now, I haven’t lived in Poland for 20 years, so that’s a long time, and I kind of don’t feel like home anywhere, because I’ve been a foreigner everywhere I’ve lived since. And with the folk singing, I’m searching for some sense of home, I guess.” I applaud Martyna’s decision to honor Poland, and I always say that I wish the West better understood the beauty and profundity of Slavic culture. (Most of my most highly regarded musical artists are still … Slavic.)

Since Martyna obviously sings a bit in Polish here, the monks in Pali, Gabriel Trentini in Italian on “Obsession Six,” and, of course, English is This Endless Solitude’s main language, I must know if Marita would consider weaving in some Norwegian. She replies, “I’ve never written or sung anything in Norwegian. English comes more naturally to me in singing, but I will think about adding some for the next time.” (May I remark that both Marita and Martyna possess perfect English intonation and cadence in their art.)

As the finale, “This Endless Solitude” serves as a “crushing reminder” of divine grace, with Marita’s voice quickly creating a feeling of expansiveness, as she projects, as if from a mountaintop. A testament to This Endless Solitude’s greatness is that I’ve basically heard and seen all the different compositions singled out as favorites by different people. Usually, I refrain from giving my own favorites when it comes to records that I consider winners; if an album is true art, it’s not typically a productive or even relevant type of comment. However, Marita, Martyna, and their interplay, plus Manes’ associate and Atrox singer Rune Folgerø, elicit an indescribably special reaction on “This Endless Solitude.” In other words, the holy trinity of voices and the way Tor-Helge sets up that relationship between them as an arranger contribute to making “This Endless Solitude” one of the most beautiful songs ever created as well as a sublime meditation tool. 

Tor-Helge’s files suggest that the composition traces back to around September 2019; Rune’s vocals were added in November 2019; Marita’s came into the picture on January 23, 2022; Rune sent in more material in April 2022; and Martyna’s voice tied everything together in December 2024. Marita reflects, “If I remember correctly, it was one of the first songs I ever sang on. Finally hearing it like this was so amazing, because it’s been so many years since I did the vocals and since I heard it. So, I haven’t heard what it could be like until now.” Tor-Helge agrees that this must have been the first song of his that Marita ever sang on, as the date given above follows when he initially established contact with her by just two days.

I express my curiosity as to whether Marita had heard Rune’s vocals before recording her own. She thinks back, “Maybe they were there, but I asked for a version without any vocals.” Tor-Helge turns to Marita, “First, I sent you a version with them, and then you wanted one without, so you probably heard it, but then you focused on the instrumental version. Then, I muted everything for Martyna, I think.” He summarizes, “So, everybody was kind of doing separate things, but it still sounds like they were kind of in the room together. It’s a really weird connection there.”

Despite what was said earlier by Martyna, I feel the compulsive need to confirm that she really hadn’t heard Marita’s (or Rune’s) recordings at any point during her creative process. Martyna nods, “We had no idea what the other one was doing, but it’s as if we’re having a dialogue, like questions and answers, sort of. It’s amazing how this evolved, and the lyrics and the song gave me this hopeful feeling. There’s hope, and there’s light at the end of the tunnel. After all the pain, all the devastation, all the darkness that we’re experiencing, there is some ray of light that’s worth waiting and looking out for.”

She expands, “All of the lyrics so far that I’ve written for Holissstik are always kind of like a desperate attempt at finding connection, dealing with your own sadness and trying to desperately reach out to someone who maybe is not answering you back. I think all the lyrics communicate this feeling of extreme loneliness and being misunderstood. So, this last song kind of finds that bridge, finally, but it’s also about accepting that this is the transformation of yourself, if that makes sense—that maybe you are enough, what you have in yourself is enough. And there’s some hope in that.” (The funny thing is that if Torstein had seen Martyna’s lyrics, I suspect he might not have given the beautiful answer he did but just listened.)

Tor-Helge, of course, concurs, “The solitude thing is kind of universal. I think everybody goes home and sometimes thinks about it and kind of feels that they can’t connect in the way they actually want. There’s realness in the concept. It’s not the made-up fantasy stuff. There’s no pretending and trying to make up cool words and nice costumes and stuff. It’s not cosplay. It’s life and different views on life.” Although Tor-Helge, of course, has people who nudge him to get together, he maintains a certain amount of hermetic distance, as perhaps we all should. In other words, his solitude is of the healthy, self-imposed sort, even if it can sometimes feel like a trial. Thus, it’s cool that Martyna’s lyrics provided a title that relates so well to his lifestyle.

“This Endless Solitude” is a good example, I believe, of what Tor-Helge meant when he remarked that sometimes Marita’s singing has a “Gregorian-chantish” flow. (And, verily, the chemistry between the vocalists on “This Endless Solitude” can only be compared to what I’ve experienced in the Orthodox Churches of St. Petersburg.) Tor-Helge himself has always been influenced by church music, having grown up around the medieval Nidarosdomen—cause for much of the noted spiritual energy. Marita beams, “I’ve always been very inspired by folk tunes, so I just really enjoy doing these airy vocals and putting in some ancient feeling. I listen to a lot of different genres, and what I like so much about this project is that I can put everything in it and try whatever I want to.”

Martyna circles back to her appreciation of folk music, “For me, it’s the same. I love adding a bit of a folky touch, and also I’m a huge The 3rd and the Mortal fan [Their drummer, Rune Hoemsnes, is a member of Manes’ core and plays on This Endless Solitude’s ‘Behind Me.’], so this music gave me some of those vibes. Of course, I’m not trying to copy anyone, but that’s probably subconsciously what I was trying to follow. And Holissstik is also the kind of music that I always-always wanted to make, because I’ve been involved with projects that are all different from each other in style. And it’s always a good challenge for me to just try to be as versatile as possible and just try different things for different genres. To me, experimentation means basically playing more with my voice in terms of different textures, trying out some unusual harmonies, unusual melodies that are not let’s say straightforward… also finding myself in different registers. Holissstik is what really just always sat in my heart. I think it gives me the most artistic freedom to just do whatever I feel.”

As a child, Martyna sang in a choir. She remains happy to speak about its effect, “For sure, this had an impact on me and the fact that I always use harmonies as well as how I create them. I love layering vocals too, just like Marita. So, it’s always somewhere in me instinctively. I absolutely loved singing in a choir. I loved being part of something larger, so I guess that’s also why I’m so excited about this project, because, again, it’s something that we collectively create. You’re one of many voices, but, together, everything just sounds so beautiful, and it makes sense.” 

Given Martyna’s refined and dramatic approach, it makes sense that she appreciates opera. She elaborates, “There was a short time when I took lessons from an opera singer, because I wanted to learn new techniques. I just opened myself to different influences, and I have a huge amount of respect for opera singers. Their technique is just amazing, but also they have this aura of just being fabulous. Their presence is just amazing. I know it comes with many sacrifices, because they really need to protect their voices, but I never wanted to become an opera singer. I was always interested in more, let’s say, alternative extreme types of singing. So, it was never on the cards for me. But I do use opera-esque elements in a few places, just to create some sense of interest and versatility throughout songs and make something different happen all the time.”

Fortunately, there is much more from Martyna and Marita to come on Chapter 2, which Tor-Helge believes has more of a “band feeling.” He’s, of course, correct. At the same time, however, it somehow seems to even amplify the loneliness factor, dragging us deeper into unsettling waters. Marita comments, “I feel, on the next chapter, I’ve experimented more with combining these airy vocals with a full-on belting voice, and I love playing with the harmonies and layering vocals—I feel like I do that more there. […] Again, I really don’t want to limit myself to one genre, and that’s why I always enjoy doing all these different projects, and I’ve felt that has really helped me grow as a vocalist.”

Martyna adds, “I’m really excited for the second chapter already, because there are some really-really dark songs in there. That’s also, for me, where I feel like I’m finally finding myself artistically, and I sound more like how I’d like myself to sound, let’s say, in this context. [Yes, Chapter 2 is full of breakthroughs, but Martyna couldn’t have been better on Chapter 1.] And I experimented much more, as I tried to find myself in different songs—I experimented with things that I’ve never tried before. For instance, I hadn’t really done much belting before, but now [like Marita] I’m opening myself more to that. But, yeah, from my perspective, the second chapter is some seriously dark stuff, because I do actually suffer from bipolar disorder. At the time, I was going through some extremely difficult things related to my health, but also in my personal life. And it just was coming out, all of it. Again, I’m very sensitive to seasonal depression—My mood always drops so much during winter when it’s super dark outside, and miserable, and cold. I hate it so much, but it fits the emotion perfectly.” Martyna names a specific song as one of the best she’s ever done, though I’ll refrain from revealing any titles now. I will, however, say that she, Marita, and Tor-Helge all continue to do top-notch work on Chapter 2, spawning some of the greatest opuses I’ve heard.

Martyna attributes some of her expansion as an artist to her semi-newfound ability to work alone, “The only positive thing about COVID for me was that I taught myself how to do basic recordings on my own, and I got a portable vocal booth. It allowed me to really just go for it, let myself evolve as a singer, and try out different techniques. So, now, I’m just trying things that I would be shy to try otherwise, in front of other people. There was no one to judge. I love that freedom, and I do actually still prefer to record on my own. Naturally, I am an introvert and just keep to myself, but, again, the sense of togetherness was also really great to feel, because I did struggle with some loneliness at the time of creating these songs, so this was also a nice way to deal with that, and music is so therapeutic—It has helped me get through some very dark things. And I just felt that, even though, again, we’ve never met in person, it was still nice to have that sense of connection with other people who maybe felt something similar and were going through similar things.”

Marita too values independence, “Yeah, I really enjoyed doing the vocals alone, by myself. And it was the first time I’d ever done them that way, because I’m used to doing vocals with a band, where all the people stand behind you, and they press record. You feel a lot more pressure to do things right, because they will stop you if you aren’t on time, so it’s so much more stressful. But when I do them like this, I feel I can really take my time. I can try different things and express myself in different ways. So, it has worked perfectly for me to do things that way.”

Marita speaks on the opportunity to generously share all of her pain and the like in Holissstik and Tor-Helge’s other adventures, “I’m so excited for that. I express myself through my singing, so that’s why you can hear the pain in the vocals. If I have a shitty day, I go sing, instead of taking a punching bag. So, I really get out all my emotions through my vocals, even though I didn’t write the lyrics for the songs. It just helps to get it all out.” (Tor-Helge informs us that Marita actually penned a few of her own lines for Chapter 2.)

Although Holissstik quite clearly incorporate the best of all worlds, a concern is that music enthusiasts and journalists might form preconceptions about the project before having heard it. At the same time that Holissstik’s blackness and aura of enigma exist, their catchy pop components are a real draw. Martyna responds, “I think it’s cool that you say that even though we’re, let’s say, alternative, there’s a little bit of a pop quality. I think that’s also how I like to think about the way I arrange my vocals, or even write lyrics—I want for there to still be some kind of catchy element, not anything cheesy, but to hook the listener.”

I’m interested to know more about how Martyna crafts her hypnotic parts for songs, generally speaking. She kindly offers insight into her creative process, “It depends on the song, but I never have a plan for what the lyrics should be about. The mood of the song always gives me everything else—I listen to the song over and over again until an idea takes shape in my head. Usually, the melody arrives first, and then the words on top of it. That’s the most natural flow for me. (…) I love writing lyrics, but I find that I need to have the inspiration first; although, sometimes I begin by writing something that’s in my mind, maybe I have a phrase that’s stuck in my head. Or maybe I get inspired if I see a movie or photography or read a book. Most of my lyrics are very personal and an opportunity to get rid of the deepest, darkest thoughts that I might have. However, depressing as they might be, they fit the music and bring me comfort. And I feel comfortable expressing myself in this way, because everything goes in Holissstik. But I very rarely incorporate rhymes, for instance. If they are there, they are kind of subtle—They’re not obvious, or cheesy, or anything, and I do not try to incorporate them consciously. I do, however, follow the phrasing.”

Tor-Helge stresses, “I think Martyna’s singing and lyrics are marvelous. What the vocals are expressing adds so many dimensions to the music. They’re so perfect. […] I think Martyna has kind of the same type of writing as Torstein—The lyrics open up a space for you to put yourself into them, which means that your connection to them becomes stronger. I really like the possibility for people to build their own interpretations. I shouldn’t really punch people in the face with meaning, like ‘This is what it means.’” To an extent, This Endless Solitude has a bit of a Rorschach inkblot effect.

I receive a bit of a surprise upon learning from Tor-Helge that I’d interpreted a sample, which I’ll leave to readers to discover, too optimistically. This leads Tor-Helge to philosophize, “Things are darker than they seem—everything, actually. And there is darkness everywhere. Even the person who smiles most in the world has some of it inside. You don’t always see it, but it’s ever-present. I always think about the yin and yang symbol, because you can’t have the good things without also having the bad things. So, focusing on the darkest stuff means that there’s probably something just as strong from the opposite end of the pole that emerges.”

This seems like an appropriate time to prod Tor-Helge about the concept of “pathei mathos,” which can be taken to mean that wisdom is acquired through suffering and became the title of the aforementioned EP fronted by Marita. Tor-Helge muses, “I have this red thread through all my many-many years of stuff. It all touches that theme, in a similar way. Experiencing darkness makes you realize that maybe you should enjoy the light more. Also, if you never experience anything negative, the first episode of negative things will break you completely. So, if you experience a lot of it, you can handle much more. In a way, it can strengthen you, and you can also learn and get something from it that is worth having that you don’t get if you can try to avoid it. That’s a thought I often have in the back of my head, even when picking samples for us, and I think the lyrics fit really well into this idea.” I will just insert my own unnecessary two cents—Tor-Helge learns from adversity because he’s a strong soul who wills it that way, but, of course, others allow it to destroy them.

In understanding our heroines, I feel it is helpful to learn more about their backgrounds. Martyna, whose father was a metal frontman, shares, “I’ve always loved literature and playing with words. Already as a small kid, I was writing little poems and things like that, little stories, so it’s always been something that kind of came naturally to me. […] My dad had a huge part in my decision to pursue music, because he was my first inspiration, and it just was such a natural thing for me to really want to make music. And, back then, the way he, or Western-sounding bands in Poland in general, wrote lyrics had to be very metaphorical because of censorship. So, people really had to be creative. I think that’s definitely had an impact on me. I’m never very direct in my lyrics—There’s always something left to interpretation.” That fits with Tor-Helge’s earlier observation.

Martyna mentions, “My favorite Polish author is Olga Tokarczuk. And another author that I really-really love, and I’m reading at the moment, is Haruki Murakami, a Japanese writer. And what I like about both is this kind of magical realism. Sometimes, you don’t really know what’s going on, but you have to figure it out, and there are all these metaphors. It’s a little bit spiritual. So, these are the kinds of things that I really like. And as for lyricists, one of my favorites is Robert Smith of The Cure.” Martyna adds, “My favorite poets include Sylvia Plath for her unapologetic pain and darkness, and also more contemporary ones like Rupi Kaur for her refreshing, free-flowing writing style and activism. I like to think that I write poems rather than lyrics as they don’t follow a typical lyric structure most of the time.” Martyna certainly does write poems; they’re some of the finest I’ve heard set to music, but they also stand alone and should be enjoyed in written form. 

With René van Hoven, Martyna herself co-authored Rum Rebels: A Celebration of Women Revolutionizing the Spirits Industry, with Cocktail Recipes. She tells us, “It’s kind of a separate part of my life, the way I see it. It’s been so long since I wrote that book. […] The book was actually about women who are involved in the rum industry, so it focuses more on their experience in a male-dominated industry.” Martyna discusses her related calling, “I like to champion women in music. I’m happy to see that there are more and more women now in, let’s say, extreme genres, and that people are finally moving away from the female-fronted concept, because it’s stupid. I think we’re going in the right direction.” Breaking into the corner of the black metal world that Marita has as a woman is quite a feat. (There is a certain fear in black metal that women dilute the brutality factor, which is why their exclusion has even been used as a marketing point, even though Diamanda Galás, for one, has been named by multiple pioneers as an inspiration …)

Along those lines, through the Swiss organization Helvetiarockt, Anna volunteers her time to help women and others in the music industry. In addition, Ana Carolina, Tor-Helge’s associate in Manes and wife to Eivind, enjoys seeing other women in metal succeed and has worked as a translator of women’s texts for the UN. During our conversation, likely accidental, but nonetheless steadfast, women’s ally Tor-Helge rightly notes, “Actually, the songs with Martyna and Marita are the darkest songs in general.” I’ll have to agree with that, though “Obsession Six,” which boasts Anna and others, is equally unnerving.

Returning to the beginning of Marita and Tor-Helge’s collaborative relationship, I know that Mr. Ole A. Aune of Terratur Possessions played a role in connecting Tor-Helge and Marita and has nobly acted as a matchmaker on other occasions, but I have been meaning to get to the bottom of whether K.R of Whoredom Rife helped as well. Tor-Helge digs into his memory, “I think we can thank both of them. I think I asked Ole, ‘Do you know anybody?,’ because I was looking for vocalists, though I don’t remember which project it was for—Manes, or Lethe, or whatever.

I didn’t think he would come up with any names at all, but he immediately recommended Marita and thought that she was perfect. He sent me a link to a vocal video of hers, and I knew that, ‘Oh, she is going to be perfect.’ And, if I remember correctly, after Ole, K.R from Whoredom Rife mentioned, ‘You should absolutely ask her.’ She wanted to sing screamed vocals, but I wasn’t looking for screamed vocals… But, in any case, that’s how the snowball started rolling, I think. And now, we are probably sitting on 5-6 projects or something… even a bunch of stuff that hasn’t been heard yet, so there’s a lot going on behind the scenes.”

Stars are sometimes born in close proximity: Marita grew up on the majestic yet allegedly “cursed, scarred and forever possessed” peninsula of Fosen, just maybe 300 meters or so from the genius (whom some allege to be “evil”) Rune Røstad, or Slagmaur’s “General Gribbsphiiser”—one of Norway’s other most worthy “wild talents.” Marita’s first band was an all-girl pop-rock group called Black Fire, and her stepsister also participated. A few months back, the General, who doubles as an outstanding photographer, revealed to me that he himself was the man behind a flame-filled Black Fire photo shoot. The session was carried out at Slagmaur’s summer studio—a barn on the farm where Rune’s brother, Mr. Roger Røstad, lives.

According to the General, Mr. Roger Røstad “is actually in the flames there (or just behind them); we used a bit too much gasoline during a photo experiment.” Fortunately, Roger is a chemist and not a lunatic, and the General is a true professional. However, Slagmaur are world-class mischief-makers, feared for onstage crucifixions, burnings, and lynchings. Misfortune almost inevitably befalls those within their radius: Thorns’ Snorre Ruch almost suffered a heart attack, a priest on roller skiis was attacked in front of the General by Roger’s now-late dog, rival artists are plied with moonshine into oblivion, journalists are made to look mortally buffoonish, and much more of which we cannot speak.

Marita recollects, “I remember that photo session, even though it was, like, 16-17 years ago. And, yeah, I remember there was a lot of fire. They set the whole place on fire, and we were standing there in the flames. I sat on a motorcycle. I was only 14 or 15. It was chaotic, but the photos turned out really well.” Indeed they did. Yet, I wonder if Marita was scared that the Røstads would, in their excitement, go too far and cause a pyrotechnical mishap. She seems to find the idea alien, “No, I think it was the image we were looking for at the time, and it’s cool.” But what about the potential consequences? Marita shrugs, probably thinking about how lovely the Røstad family actually is, “I didn’t think about the consequences back then, so it was like, ‘Oh, flames! Cool!’ So, yeah, I didn’t feel unsafe or anything. And, afterwards, we just sat down and ate pizza, so it was harmless and everything. But maybe if I think about it today, it was a little too much flames.” Although Black Fire had much potential, Marita is the sole member of the endeavor whose musical spark is still burning today; “I’m the only one of the band that still does music,” she says.

Although Marita is never one to self-promote, fortunately, she does kindly let us in on her plans, “We are currently working on album number two with Invaded, so that will come out next year. And, also, Enevelde has a new album [Blodig Stablet til Himmelen] on the way, which will come out around the start of the new year.” Again, watch out for her miraculous performances on Manes’ To Burn Is to Shine as well.

Thankfully, we can also expect more from Martyna. She delivers the exciting news, “I do actually have something coming up very soon this year. It’s a new band that, funnily enough, will have some black metal influences. The band is actually based in the States. It’s called At First Light, so, for sure, look out for that. I’m very excited about it. At the moment, my main things are Holissstik and this upcoming band, and I can’t wait to show you more.”

Tor-Helge concludes, “I can’t say anything other than thanks enormously to everyone involved in this project—They all raised the bar enormously. The project took on another dimension with all the contributions. It was far-far-far beyond anything I could have hoped for. So, even if I mentioned earlier that I don’t like the idea of an experiment [I’ll now insert his words on the matter, ‘We are not laboratory rats.’], it was kind of an experiment in the beginning to see if there would be any cool music coming out of this. The results blew my mind repeatedly, essentially every time I received contributions. They still continue to do that when I listen to the songs on the album and also on the forthcoming albums.”

Purchase This Endless Solitude here, and follow Holissstik on Facebook, Instagram, and their website.

As always when discussing Holissstik, we send our massive thanks to Season of Mist.

Images courtesy of Martyna Halas and Marita Hellem; all photos of Martyna were artfully photographed by Kateryna Tomchuk